Heartache
by missrebecca
Summary: Entry for draco/hermionecontests. tumblr's #004 contest. One-shot. Prompt: "the ones who love us never really leave us" Write a D/Hr fic about attending a funeral or visiting a grave.


**My entry for draco/hermionecontest. tumblr. com's #004 contest.**

**The characters used a the sole proprty of JK Rowling who is in no way affiliated with this piece of literary fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended. **

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><p><span>Heartache<span>

By missrebecca

The wind didn't howl, no leaves rustled and no birds cawed out their haunting tribute to the place. It was nothing like he expected. Instead the cemetery in which the tall blond form of Draco Malfoy stood was completely empty and incredibly silent. Silent as the grave he thought mockingly, before chastising himself, could he not even be decent here?

He ran a pale hand through his white blond hair, it was thinning and receding, the tell all signs of aging catching up to him. His face was gaunt, the grief had been harsh and he couldn't say he was over it quite yet. It had added extra lines to his forehead and around his eyes, his lips had thinned slightly, but his eyes still shone, like brand new silver sickles.

The gate closed suddenly behind him, but he didn't jump. Long hours training with his father had made him incapable of being surprised. Though that wasn't at all true, because she always surprised him. Just thinking of his wife brought a tear to his eye, he wished she were with him, he wished he didn't have to be so alone for this.

The daisies in his hand were battered, he had shifted so much, twisted his hands around the paper about them, petals had fallen like snow until only one or two blooms were left. They would do, he thought, she always liked daisies. Running a weary hand across his face he began the walk, engrained so clearly into his mind, across the downtrodden earth.

It was a well worn path, from thousands of feet taking the same root through the cemetery, until he came to a bend and he veered onto a path less trodden. His lips clamped together, keeping his grief and tears inside. He wouldn't allow it to overtake him, not anymore. So he kept walking, his head held high and his hands clenching and relaxing on the measly bunch of flowers, until finally he reached the pure white stone. Only then did he allow the tears to spill onto his hollow cheeks.

Three years and yet the pain and loss were still just as fresh. It was as though he was losing her all over again, seeing her name carved meticulously into the marble. It was such a meagre representation of the life she had lived, that had been cut short so abruptly. She had been important, loved by so many people, only to have it all ripped from beneath her. His knees gave out, as they always did, his hands tore at the earth beneath him as he rested his forehead against the cold stone. His breath gasped out, the cold air was painful to his lungs but he bore down, the pain he deserved for what had happened to her. His beautiful girl.

A hand on his shoulder caused him to snap to attention, and he turned his neck burning from the movement until he was staring into honey coloured eyes. They too had lines around, but she was still beautiful, as she always had been. Her hair was wild around her, tumultuous waves of curls that never could be controlled.

"Hermione," he gasped. Her name was foreign on his lips, though he'd chanted it so often in the three years, he never imagined he would see her again, especially never looking at him like she did.

"Draco." His name was a sob, she'd missed him so much, and seeing him now his eyes so much like hers had been, brought everything back. Hermione couldn't stand it and soon found herself cradled in her husbands arms, sobbing harshly into his shoulder.

"I missed you," Draco murmured. "I'm so sorry Hermione, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, it was never your fault."

He pulled back, eyes wide. With freezing hands he wiped the tears from his beautiful wife's face, before cradling it gently in his hands.

"How can you say that? If I'd been watching more closely, if I'd kept a hold on her, then maybe-"

"Shush now." Her fingers were soft against his lips, and she smiled sadly. She hated herself for doing this to him, to the man she'd loved for so long. Hermione would never move on from the loss, but she should have known that by isolating Draco so completely would make it so much harder for him. "She was a child, she was going to wander. It was no ones, and everyone's, fault."

With a cry Draco folded himself back into his wife's embrace, he hadn't felt it for so long and he couldn't stop the smile from crossing his features, even as the tears ran thick down his face. It was there they stayed, even as the snow began to fall, staring melancholy but united in front of the marble stone carved delicately with the words;

_In loving memory of Ophelia Jean Malfoy _

_Beloved daughter, taken from her family much too soon_

_14__th__ January 2009 - 16__th__ February 2014_

_May she always be remembered_

The End

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><p><em>Let me know what you think :)<em>


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